


Like Home

by Wolfscub



Category: American Actor RPF, Lee Pace Fandom
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mild D/s, Mildly Dom!Lee, Mildly Dominant Lee, NSFW, PWP, Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfscub/pseuds/Wolfscub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lee drops by his lover's place between filming obligations.</p><p>Schmexy times ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't done a Lee Pace fic in a while - nothing came to me for him until this one.
> 
> It's kinda eh, though. Something's missing about it, but I can't find what it is. I seriously considered scrapping it altogether, or at least not posting it, but what the fuck.
> 
> Mildly Dom!Lee, Mild D/s, Spanking, Sex, Fluff and Smut, PWP, Erotica, NSFW

[](http://s1008.photobucket.com/user/phillyloo/media/tumblr_nmecl2N3od1uqxr3fo1_1280_zpsp8rcani1.jpg.html)

[source](http://its-babyleface-lokirich.tumblr.com/post/115683711588/lee-grinner-pace-3)

 

It was still very early Spring, so what I referred to as my private beach was even more so and although I carried one just in case, I didn't bother with a leash for the dog. The only other creatures we were likely to encounter were hearty seagulls, which she would chase enthusiastically.

I hadn't done a perfect job with her, but one thing she seemed to have gotten was not to leave Mommy, so I had no worries that she'd run away - not that there was anywhere to run to, anyway. I meandered down the shore and she meander along with me - sometimes head of, sometimes behind me. My head was always down - looking for interesting shells or sea glass or rocks to take back to a house that was already full to overflowing with all of that lovely sea bounty.

It had been a long, solitary Winter, and I was looking forward to Spring more than I ever had in my life. Perhaps then my travel plans - to places with actual _civilization_ \- or what passed for it in rural New England - as opposed to my secluded home in the woods - wouldn't constantly be thwarted by Mother Nature's blizzardy tantrums.

But I had understood - and still do consider it a selling point - when I bought this place that anyone who found me would have had to have been actively _searching_ for me. 

My house isn't the kind of place you can just drop into or happen upon.

You have to look for it and all of the auspices had to be in your favor.

Kind of like _Brigadoon_.

I turned to head even more slowly back to my house, drinking in the cool - but much warmer than it had been - damp sea air by the lungful, glad beyond measure that I could finally down the beach without needing thermal underwear, twelve layers of warm clothing and a snorkel jacket, stopping frequently just to stare out at the open ocean and let its sights and sounds soothe me, as they always had.

Suddenly, during just such a moment, I realized I hadn't heard hide nor hair from my vicious puppy in quite some time. Usually she brings me things that I have to pry out of her mouth - dead things, potentially dangerous things - luckily few and far between - the occasional metal beer bottle cap that would tear her mouth up if I let her have it.

I turned to look to my left at where I had just been, but there was nothing moving but the tide -- and if nothing else, my Peanut was usually easy to spot because she was _always_ moving.

Trying not to grow alarmed, I turned to the left again, ending up with the vast ocean behind me.

Still nothing.

Beginning to worry a bit, I moved to my left again, the sudden wind encouraging me to keep my head down, aiming for home, figuring she might well have gotten cold and gone back there to wait for me, and I managed - in my blind panic, to collide with a mountain of man I was amazed that I had missed, the impact nearly knocking me onto my butt in the cold wet sand.

But a hard arm snaked around my waist in a flash to save me - the twin to the other one, which was holding my recalcitrant dog, who, unlike with most people, was tucked contentedly against him, as if that was where she belonged all the time.

I knew the owner of both arms, though, but wasn't given time to say his name exaltedly - as I ached to - before I found my mouth captured by his, as surely as Peanut and I were already captured in his arms. 

And both of us ended up off our feet as he gently lifted me while holding me against him, exclaiming huskily, "Damn, I have missed you, woman!" before his lips descended on mine.

There was no escaping his kiss, but then I didn't want, too, anyway. I may have been startled by his unexpected presence, but I was no fool. I was going to revel in any kiss this man decided to give me!

Although it began rather aggressively, it ended up sweet and poignant, with him nibbling more gently at my bottom lip than I think he even wanted to.

He gave me an intense look with those bedroom eyes of his and set us both gently on our feet. The dog and I both clamored around him, with the lovestruck dog getting the short end of the stick.

Me, I was busy drinking in every bit of him that I could. He looked well but tired, the signs of it apparent around his eyes and mouth. Every time I saw him I was again amazed at his size - somehow when I remembered him after he'd left, he seemed smaller., but I adored his size and height, although I consciously did my best not to mention it to him - I knew lots of people tended to comment on that feature of his, and I kind of figured he might be sick of hearing about it, especially since it was something he couldn't control. I kind of thought that that - along with not wanting to tower over everyone - was probably why he sometimes slouched in pictures, and I was inordinately proud that he rarely did that around me. 

I'd taken at least as deep a breath of him while he'd held me in his arms as I had of the sea moments before. He always smelled so good - of fresh air and some kind of mild, woodsy cologne, and, well, _him_. He smelled like Lee.

Like home.

As I gazed up at him adoringly, he kept me close to his side and we began to slog back to my place, and I noticed he that he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of me, either - that he only had eyes for me, I thought frivolously, because who else was he going to look at here?

I knew, however, that in the grand scheme of things, that was not true. He had never asked for exclusivity from me, nor I of him, and I very carefully tucked the tremendous jealousy I would feel - if I allowed myself - towards anyone else he might become involved with away, not wanting it to spoil things between us, taking it out only when I was alone and feeling low and wanting to torture myself.

I loved him - of that I had absolutely no doubt - deeply and completely and forever. I was no ingénue, no dewy eyed girl in love with a movie star she had posters of on her walls. In fact, I had few pictures of him at all, not wanting to treat him in any way as he was when he was in the public eye. I did my best to make my home appealing to him, somewhere he would want to spend time unwinding, and snapping pics of him was not something I thought would be conducive to a relaxing atmosphere.

My feelings for him were something I had never confessed to him and never intended to, not wanting to pressure him in any way. He was so busy - especially now - and I knew he had so many demands on his time - not just work but other friends and family he wanted to see and catch up with - that I was always honored beyond measure when he decided to spend any of his precious time off with me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, still incredulous that he was, in fact, _here_. With me. "I thought you were in New Zealand."

We might not have been together, but we kept in very regular contact, Skyping frequently and emailing, texting or talking on the phone at least once every day.

"We wrapped there, and I have a week or so before I have to fly to London to get the last bits in the can." He stopped the both of us, his hands holding my cheeks, smiling down at me in that beatific way he had that made me feel as if I was at the center of his world, "And I knew I had to come see my baby."

I couldn't imagine how long the flight was that he, technically, hadn't had to take. "Oh, Lee, you came all of that way just for me?" I was beginning to tear up, and there was no hope that he wouldn't notice.

"Honey, I would go to the ends of the Earth for a few seconds with you."

As he kissed me tenderly, a gust of wind whipped around us and I shivered.

Suddenly, I was bereft of his warmth, but only for a second as he removed his voluminous coat and put it over me, scolding me gently for not wearing something warmer than just a t-shirt and a hoodie and, after wrapping it around me multiple times, he lifted me into his arms.

"Lee - it's loose sand and then the stairs into the house - put me down! I don't want to injure you when you certainly don't have to carry me . . ."

But he was already on the move, giving me a frown. "I know I don't have to. I like to. Besides, I've got longer legs and we'll get you into your warm house faster this way." Suddenly his frown deepened and he halted in his tracks as he looked down at me consideringly. "Do you trust me to carry you in the snow and ice without dropping you?"

Without a second's hesitation I breathed the absolute truth I felt in my heart, "I trust you with my life, Lee."

That wonderful smile stole my breath - and my heart - yet again.

With the dog trailing slavishly after him - as I would have been if he'd let me walk - Lee brought us all through the back door of my house and into the den, which was the entire of the house, with one wall of sliders that faced the ocean, revealing a fantastic view of the water.

He put me down gently and turned to stare out at it, hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets. "Even in the winter it has a kind of a stark beauty, doesn't it?" He sounded just as mesmerized as I always was by the sea, and I knew he loved this place - its isolation and wild beauty - almost as much as I did.

"It does," I agreed.

I wasn't looking at the ocean.

But I shook myself from my reverie quickly, lest he see me staring at him like a lovestruck dolt, saying as I headed for the kitchen, which was part of the house that was heated during the winter, whereas the den - which was pretty much still sealed off for the season - was not, "Coffee?"

I made it into the kitchen, barley.

But there wasn't going to be any coffee for some time.

Instead, I felt those arms curl possessively around me from behind, big, cold hands claiming as much of my naked skin as they could get to through his coat, which quickly found its way to the floor.

I bent to retrieve it, but found myself brought up short, turned all at once to face him, raw urgency plain on his usually mild mannered features.

As he reached for the two halves of my shirt, he growled, "I can't wait, sugar. I can't be patient - not now." With that revealing warning, buttons began flying as he ripped my shirt open, but only halfway down, pushing it off my shoulders which held my arms to my sides, knowing that would make me feel wildly vulnerable to him, amping up desires that were already nearly at peak and he'd barely touched me. 

"You're not wearing a bra . . . " I couldn't even recognize his voice it was so deep and hungry. His eyes found mine as his hands found my breasts. "If I'd known that I'd've taken you on the beach - snow or no snow."

"We would have frozen!"

Cupping me, claiming me, thumbs worrying my already swollen nipples, he murmured against my lips, "I would have kept you warm. You and I together would have melted every snowbank for miles around us."

Dear God, we would have. This man - this quiet, deliberate, thoughtful, gentle man - made me hotter than any man I'd ever found. 

And he was such a truly nice guy that the dominant streak I'd uncovered in him early on in our relationship had surprised me at first. Not that dominant men weren't nice, but in my experience, there was more blatant evidence of their bent in their overall personalities. But in Lee it was very subtle - as he was - and manifested itself in his overt interest in my health and general well being, and a protectiveness that I found heartbreakingly endearing. 

However the place that it appeared most often was in bed.

As soon as he realized that that was what I liked, he took control - no excuses, no mincing of words, no holding back and absolutely no ego trips that might have prompted him to flaunt my submission to him in any way that would have instantly caused me to rethink that part of our relationship. His dominance was a natural extension of who he was - not an acting role - and it was a direct reflection of what he was like as a man - strong and confident enough in his masculinity and his dominance to lead, with his tranquil, zen persona - and with zero drama - by example, to assume the mantle of a loving, watchful caretaker. One of the things that impressed me the most about him as a lover and a dom was that he took the time to learn about me, and to discover the difference between the times when I needed him to hug the stuffing out of me and let me cry on his shoulder or thrash me beyond reason - amazingly not shying way from either situation in the least.

And I reveled in every, single aspect of it.

Of _him_.

While he bent his head to take an impudent nipple in his mouth, he lifted me then - again - suckling avidly and walking the both of us into my bedroom at the same time.

My room always seemed more than large enough when I was alone but was instantly much too small with this man's head nearly touching ceilings that were consciously hung low to keep my heating bills from bankrupting me.

He _was_ a giant of a man, but even when I was begging him for mercy I knew he would not show as he blistered my behind, his size had never made me feel anything but protected and cherished.

Those huge hands found their way beneath my own loose fitting jeans to the body part in question, squeezing and gripping those fleshy mounds tightly before moving around front to work the button and zipper, then returning to my bum to grab and lift it - and me - out of the pants that had already fallen to my ankles.

Two deft twists of his hands and my last remaining defense against him - besides my socks - was reduced to small scraps of torn cloth as what had been my panties fell from his fingers, unnoticed by either of us - we were much too busy kissing as if it was as much of a necessary component of our survival as air.

And it was!

Dear God, I wanted this man!

I was surprised - but I shouldn't have been, knowing him - when he sank - gracefully for such a big guy - to his knees before me, gently relieving each foot of its sock while carefully supporting me so I wouldn't fall over - then, when I was well and truly naked in front of him, he pressed his face into my stomach, just below my breasts - he was that tall even kneeling because I'm that short - one hand on my mid-back, fingers splayed to touch as much of me as he could, his other arm wrapped around my legs, just below the swell of my derriere, holding me there for a long moment before getting to his feet.

My hands immediately found his shirt of their own volition, but his came up to move them away. "No, sweet thing. I want you on the bed, on your tummy," he ordered gently. He almost never raised his voice with me, unless he found out that I'd put myself in danger some way.

That had only ever happened once, and he'd made quite certain that I would never allow it to happen again.

The "him finding out part", anyway . . .

I sat on the edge of the bed and began to slowly move up it, wanting to stay as close to him as possible, watching him eagerly as he began to divest himself of his own clothes. "But Lee, I won't be able to see you then!" I pouted, even knowing how much he hated whining or pouting of any kind. It was one of his biggest pet peeves.

And it earned me a look from him that I wished I hadn't seen - chin down, one of those magnificent eyebrows raised, those generous lips - that almost always looked as if they were going to break into a smile at any moment - in a tight, unhappy line.

Still making my way up the bed I rolled myself onto my tummy as soon as I could in the face of that expression.

But not soon enough for him.

He reached down, encircling one of my ankles with long fingers and dragging me back down towards him.

This was not good.

Not good at all.

"I had intended simply to make love to you - that's all I want in the world right now is to be inside you, to feel you yield yourself to me that way as I press into you - but I can see that you've forgotten yourself over the months that we've been apart, little girl, and I can't let you get away with being naughty." He ticked my indiscretions off in a clipped tone. "You do not decide in what position I take you, nor do you complain about it when I do. You simply assume that position. And I am not Lee to you, am I, babygirl?"

"N-no, Sir," I whimpered as I was pulled across his lap - his still clothed lap - my hands caught at my back - not that they weren't really useless against him anyway, but he knew how important the small touches were, that it would remind me of just how helpless I was as he relentlessly set fire to my bottom, reducing me to tears within the first few spanks, although I knew that my tears would never be considered mitigating reasons to stop a punishment.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

Lee was as thorough and methodical a spanker as he was an actor, unfortunately for me, none of my weeping or wailing or begging deterred him in the least as every inch of my butt and even down the backs of my thighs a bit was scourged to what sure felt like an angry, unbecoming red.

When he finally let me go, I knew that - regardless of how much I just wanted to cry in his arms - I had better get myself into the position he'd chosen.

"Good girl," he praised from where he was standing at the end of the bed, and I knew that he had deliberately _watched_ me obey him, that doing so would get him even hotter than he already was.

I had felt that bulge jutting up into my tummy as he spanked me and I knew it would soon be inside me.

Whether I wanted it to be or not.

I lay there for a long moment, _knowing_ he was staring down at me before I felt the considerable depression at the end of the mattress that meant that he was finally on the bed with me.

"Open your legs," he ground out as I could feel him advancing towards me.

I had never been afraid of Lee in any way, but, perhaps since I couldn't really see him, and my bottom was still sizzling from the attentions of that big hand, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, as if I was being stalked by a predator of some sort - and he was easily big enough to be a lion, or probably more accurately, a bear.

But I wasn't stupid and I was in no hurry for a repeat of the spanking I'd just received, so I parted my legs, if slowly at first.

But it was enough for him to insert himself between them, which forced them even further apart, making me blush - and then blush even worse because I was blushing in the first place!

Then he tucked his knees into the backs of mine and spread his own legs, which brought mine with them, to the point that I though he was going to split me apart, while at the same time he covered each of my hands with his, entwining our fingers and bringing them up above my head.

I had never felt quite so exposed to a man before - with a few relatively subtle, rather than overtly aggressive, movements, he had rendered me defenseless and deeply vulnerable to him - and the most truly, completely submissive I had ever been to any man.

Deep down, though, I had an unshakable trust in him and his basic gentlemanly tendencies, no matter what position I found myself in with him. I had long since surrendered absolute control of my body to him, knowing bone deep that he would ever deliberately hurt me - physically, emotionally, or psychologically.

But there was no denying that the man was dangerous - he'd always seemed to know - instinctively, somehow - exactly what I wanted from him, just how I wanted to be handled.

Spot on, every time. Sometimes, like now, almost uncomfortably so.

As I was trying to come to grips with the position in which I found myself, and his looming presence behind me, he began to nibble-bite the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine as his hips rolled against my sore behind.

His still pants covered hips.

Another thoughtful detail he knew would send me even further into subspace as his jeans abraded my singed skin, making me squeal and moan, trying with absolutely no success to wiggle out from under him.

I don't think I succeeded in moving so much as an inch, not with the heavy weight of him behind me pinning me open beneath him and his hands holding mine pressed into the mattress - out of his way and well beyond my ability to rescue them.

It wasn't very long before he stopped, though, and I felt him move back just a bit. He took both of my wrists in one hand, the other finding the room he'd made between us and used it to undo his jeans, pushing them and his briefs down only enough to unfurl that impressive length threateningly against me.

It sprang into place right where it wanted to be, nudging my entrance, but he ignored it for the time being in favor of exploring that which was laid out beneath him.

I couldn't help it. I groaned long and low as soon as his fingers came in contact with that very intimate part of me, even though he really wasn't doing anything yet.

But it was only a matter of time before those curious, thick fingers found the source of my embarrassment as I creamed all over them the second they made their way to the area his cock was already trying to claim.

"Oh, lovely, is this all for me? Despite your spanking?"

I didn't want to answer, but I knew he expected one - and not just a nod of my head, either.

"Yes, Sir," I breathed, as softly as I dared.

"And the spanking? Did that make you wet, too, honey?" A chiding note entered his tone as he continued, "Don't try to lie to me, now, either. You know I'll make sure you won't sit comfortably for long after I'm gone if you lie to me."

I didn't want to admit what he was going to force me to admit. "Please, Sir -"

His hand left my groove to grasp a swollen, impossibly sore cheek. "Answer me, little one."

On a sob, I blurted out in a voice full of regret, "Yes, yes, it did!"

He let my bottom go immediately and his hand returned to where it had been exploring, dipping his fingers into the source of my honey and gliding those slickened digits up to a clit that was throbbing so hard I thought it was going to burst the moment they slid over that swollen, throbbing bud.

But it didn't.

I did groan gutturally, though, unable to stop myself as he leaned over me again and gave a deliberately low, evil chuckle, his weight pressing me even further into the mattress as I could feel the substantial head of his cock finding the small entrance to its natural home within me as he paused to rumble fiercely, his head now well above mine as he suited actions to words, "I am going _take_ you, babygirl. I'm going to _fuck_ you until you can't take it any more, until you're _begging_ me to let you to cum."

And he was right.

Just that bare, primitive action, his cock invading me as I lay there beneath him, defenseless against him and unable to prevent him making good on this threat, or keep his fingers from molesting me, and the combination nearly had me exploding around him, but he took deliberate steps to thwart my pleasure, surging into me fully then pulling out and establishing no rhythm at all as he plunged into me, hips snapping frighteningly hard one time, slowly and gently the next.

All while those all too knowledgeable fingers of his tortured my completely exposed clit, somehow intuiting exactly when he should back off and just when he should come on strong, drawing out both of our pleasures until - as he had predicted, I couldn't take it any longer.

As he well knew, I was not - in any way - above begging for what I wanted.

"Please - please - please!"

His only answer was another sinister laugh that gave me chills, cooling me down just a bit only so he could build me back up to that unbelievable peak where every bit of me was consumed by him and the things he was doing to me, the position he had me in, and how utterly overwhelmed I was by him.

Finally, he released my hands - which I was much too distracted to do anything with and he reached down to cup my throat with his free hand, forcing me to arch my neck back and look up at him as he pumped me full of him with heavy, jarring thrusts.

"Cum, woman. Cum hard while I still allow it," came his low, snarled command.

I was there before he finished speaking, my entire body drawn taut, lungs so full of air I thought they might pop until I began to scream uncontrollably, thrashing beneath him with all my meager might, desperate to escape the tidal wave of ecstasy I was being forced to experience, but he never let me avoid one second of it - or the others that rolled relentlessly over me in its wake - holding my neck tightly, pinning me with his big body, pistoning into me until he met my scream with his own, deeper, even more animalistic one, holding me mindlessly tight before collapsing down on top of me as if every bit of strength he possessed had been drained from him all at once.

He was almost literally smothering me, and I love every second of it that I could get, because I knew what would happen next.

As soon as he came to his senses, he apologized profusely - if breathlessly - and rolled off me, even though I'd spent the past four or so years telling him that he didn't need to do that, that he wasn't hurting me by lying on top of me.

At least he mitigated the bereft feeling the loss of his presence - warmth, yes, but mostly just his closeness - inspired in me by hauling me none too gently to his side with one iron band of an arm.

Both of us still panting in the aftermath, his other hand cupped my jaw and made me look at him in his other completely unnecessary ritual, looking down at me with a concerned written all over his face, as if he worried every time that he had broken or damaged me somehow. "Are you okay?"

The mischievous side of me wanted to moan and groan histrionically while clutching spasmodically at some place on my person, just to give him something to worry about, but I could still - even in the trembling recession of the bliss he had brought me to - feel my rear end stinging, and I wisely decided against it.

"I'm not just okay when I'm with you," I informed him more pertly than I felt, "I'm fan-damn-tastic."

Laughing, he pulled me on top of him, which I loved almost as much, saying, "Yes, you abso-fucking-lutely are, little girl."

After a few long, lovely moments of tangled legs and soft chest hair over hard muscles beneath my cheek and him stroking his big paw up and down my back, I looked up at him, already knowing what his answer was going to be. "Hungry?"

His eyes widened in anticipation. "Starving. I haven't had anything to eat but the crap they gave us on the plane. I landed at Logan, got my rental, gassed up and drove North, hell bent for leather, wanting to surprise you before you got wind of my plan to come up here and take advantage of you - and your wonderful hospitality."

"Any time at all, Lee, honey. You know you don't need an invitation."

I slid off him to the floor next to the bed, but he caught my hand as I turned to head to the kitchen and wouldn't let go, making me look back at him quizzically.

"Are you sure that's still true? I don't mean to be a buzzkill or anything, but the last thing I want is for you to feel . . . you know. Used."

He sat up, unselfconsciously naked, and caught my other hand, situating me between his long legs and staring up at me, and I could see the raw truth of his concern in those soulful eyes.

So instead of giving him a flip answer, or treating it lightly, I pressed myself further against him, reclaiming my hands to drape my arms over those broad shoulders and put my face very close to his. "Darling, that is the very last thing you ever could or ever would make me feel. And you will be welcome in my home and in my bed until we can't remember what to do with each other once we get there. And even then, I'll be perfectly content to just lie there in your arms."

The smile that spread over his beloved face was genuine, but he still looked troubled around the edges as his hands claimed my hips possessively. "I know I have no right to ask this, and I very carefully haven't for the time we've been together because I'm not at all sure I want to know the answer, but I'm going to be stupid and selfish and ask it anyway." Lee looked away for a moment then back into my eyes. "There's - there's no one else?"

I didn't hesitate to answer him for a second, despite what it revealed about me. "No. No one else. Not once in four plus years, since we met."

I did not parrot his question back to him because I thought the answer might make me cry and I didn't want to do that in front of him. I did enough of that kind of agonizing weeping every time I saw a picture of him on the Internet with some starlet or other.

"Again, I'm aware that I'm not entitled to feel this way, either, but I'm glad," he admitted a bit sheepishly.

I smiled somewhat tightly, then tried to move away. This conversation was making me uncomfortable.

But he wouldn't let me.

"Aren't you going to ask me the same question?"

My laugh was humorless. "Fuck no!"

"You should. I think you'd be surprised at the answer," he cajoled.

"Oh, I don't think I would, and I honestly have no interest in knowing, thank you."

He drew me onto his lap and held me tight. "Even if my answer is the same as yours?"

It was the first time in our years together that I had to wonder whether he was telling the truth.

"And I am telling you the God's honest truth. You know I don't lie."

As far as I know, he never had, to me, at least.

"You'll forgive me if I find that hard to believe, considering the gorgeous women you work with - whatzername from _Lost_ , Mackenzie Davis -"

"Both very good friends of mine. I roomed with Evangeline - just platonically," he added.

"You're not helping your case."

He looked a bit taken aback. "I didn't know I needed to build one. Are you saying that you don't believe me?"

I wiggled away from him and he let me, grabbing a robe as I headed for the kitchen without looking back, afraid he'd see my tears. "I'm not saying anything. You said that I've been your only lover for the past four years. I have no reason to doubt you."

Before I made it to the relative safety of the kitchen, where I could concentrate on cooking and not this God awful conversation we were having, he caught me.

It was the first time I actively fought him when we were not in a sexual situation - although I didn't say anything, didn't ask him to let me go - and he didn't really do anything - he just manacled my wrist with his fingers and held on while I tried to dance away from him.

"Lee, my arm hurts."

One eyebrow went up slightly. "Then stop pulling on it and come here to me," came his quiet, implacable response.

"I don't _want_ to," I whined, keeping my head down, not wanting him to see that I was crying.

He didn't have to move. He just reeled me in by his hold on my wrist, and I could do nothing but obey him.

With his arms wrapped around my waist, he slipped the robe off my shoulders and down my body till it pooled on the floor around us. "Hey, what are you doing?" I sniffed.

"Making you vulnerable, as am I at the moment."

Desperate to stop the tears, I swallowed hard and blinked, two big wet splotches landing on his lightly hairy chest.

"Baby, you're crying! Why?" he said, obviously horrified. In seconds, I was in his arms on the couch in the living room. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"What did you think talk of you and other women was going to inspire in me? Unmitigated joy?" I wailed, sniffling and sobbing loudly. "And why are we even talking about this?"

A sudden thought struck terror into my heart, although I tried to be brave as I barely whispered, not even wanting to consider the possibility that I might be right, "Are you breaking up with me?"

Lee caught my chin in his fingers, forcing me to look at him as he dried my tears gently with his other hand. "No, my love, I am not. In fact, just the opposite. I want to spend _more_ time with you. I want you to quit your job so you can travel with me." He looked a bit shy as he added, "That is, if you _want_ to spend more time with me."

Stunned, I nonetheless answered, without reservation, "Oh my God, yes!" throwing my arms around him and weeping even more heavily than before.

His arms closed around me, holding me tight. "I didn't mean to make you cry even worse -"

"Yes, but now I'm crying for a better reason!" I wailed.

He turned his head and whispered, "I love you, you know."

"I love you, too!" I sobbed piteously back, making us both laugh.


End file.
